


Character

by karelian



Category: Actor RPF, Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Acting, Actors, Community: contrelamontre, Fellowship of the Ring, Inspired by Music, M/M, Party, Secrets, Song Lyrics, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-09
Updated: 2003-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-13 05:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karelian/pseuds/karelian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Work and life have a way of bleeding into one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Character

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's still in Aragorn's costume, still in Aragorn's mindset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Contrelamontre's "use-this-snippet" challenge. It's exactly 400 words because for some reason I can meet the time limit better if I give myself a word limit. For Cinzia, because I owe her some VigBean in exchange for beta-ing.

A pair of strong hands catch Viggo by the shoulders as soon as he clears the door. He's still in Aragorn's costume, still in Aragorn's mindset -- a Ranger caught off his guard. It's all he can do not to toss Boromir across the trailer and tell him he will not take the Ring within a hundred leagues of Minas Tirith.

He focuses on Sean's laughing eyes, so different from Boromir's dark scowl which he faced all day in front of the cameras. Viggo could feel the tension humming through Sean as their characters fought. He wonders how much of that made it on film, and what it will look like to an audience.

"You scared me," he says.

Sean looks pleased. "Been trying to all day. Did it work?"

"Yeah, I think it worked really well." Carefully Viggo puts down his sword. His heart is still beating too fast, but the hands creeping up his neck to cradle his head are gentle, and the lips that brush his are parted in a soft smile. It would not do to flinch.

Sean leans close to his ear and whispers, "Want you."

He laughs airily. "Doesn't anyone say 'please' anymore?"

"Want you, please." There's a responsive chuckle from Sean. "Now."

But Viggo can't, not until he gets out of the costume and the wig and the sharp bitter taste in his mouth. He steps back and says, "Have to change. You too." Working the clasps and ties is a relief. He turns his face away from Sean as he loosens Aragorn's hold on him.

"You all right?" Viggo looks up to find Sean studying him, still wearing Boromir's tunic and heavy vest. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Long day." He doesn't know how to explain that he can't talk to Sean now, not in those clothes, not after that greeting. "Can we go get a drink?" Beer and cigarettes, maybe fries, something Aragorn would never eat. "I need to get out for awhile."

"All right," Sean nods. But his smile doesn't reach his eyes, and the odd note of distrust comes through, just for a moment.

It's not a typical expression for Sean. "Motherfucking son of a bitch!" Viggo snarls, making him jump. But it works -- suddenly they're different people again. "Sorry. Just had to get that out," he explains, and Sean grins.

"You're fucking crazy. Maybe it's the Ring." And maybe it is.


	2. Performance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The job drags into the evening at the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the contrelamontre couch challenge.

The party at Liv's is too formal, with matching tablecloths and napkins and the beer lined up in neat rows in the fridge. Sean sits awkwardly on the couch wondering how long manners dictate that he must stay before he can plead exhaustion and escape to a night on his own couch, with empty bottles on the cluttered table and something -- anything -- on the telly.

To keep themselves out of trouble, the hobbits are dancing to the music, but Orlando hasn't joined them; he's brooding. Earlier John tried to lecture him on some subtle detail of his performance, something that hadn't seemed elfin enough to John's eye, and though the lad confidently assured the older man that he knew what he was doing and Ian nodded his approval, Sean could see that Orlando was crestfallen. This evening he's spent half an hour interrogating Viggo about acting, though Viggo scans the room as if seeking distraction every time Orlando isn't looking directly at him. Sean thinks about rescuing Viggo, but finds himself curious about what he has to say.

"Don't get too infatuated with all this Stanislavski, Meisner, whatever technique they emphasize at Guildhall," Viggo insists, trying to forestall any more discussion. "Just keep it real, which is what you've been doing." Viggo's eyes wander to his sword, stashed in the corner with coats and various bags. Then they glance up and notice Sean's attention before Sean can feign interest in something else.

"Falling asleep?" Viggo calls over. Orlando turns and starts toward him, making Sean realize that he's about to be next for the younger man's demands.

Sure enough, "Hey, can I ask you something?" Behind Orlando, Viggo grins and pantomimes that he'll get him another beer. Orlando sinks down on the couch, running a hand through his unkempt mohawk. Even when nervous, his smile is infectious. "What's your secret?" he asks.

"No one system really," replies Sean. "I've never immersed myself in Method. There are always going to be people who think they know better than you, or think they know your character better than you do, and you'll have your share of fights with directors about it. Viggo's right. Just keep it real."

But Orlando is shaking his head. "No, that's not what I meant. You've done the thing where your character has a secret that only you know, right? I heard you talking about playing bastards before."

Sean nods, surprised that Orlando had been interested; that had been a conversation with Ian in which Sean had said Macbeth was more likeable than Hamlet or Lear, and they'd gotten into a discussion of whether Aragorn and Boromir were more like Hamlet and Horatio or Antonio and Bassanio.

While playing Boromir, who's practically mythological, Sean thinks that withholding one private belief may keep the character grounded and give him focus beyond the obvious ones on Gondor and the Ring. It's becoming more than what's on the script pages that gives the characters depth, he wants to say to Orlando, but isn't sure how to explain what he means.

"FUCK!" Elijah yells as his feet go skidding on something that someone has spilled near one of the tables. He slides into the legs, sending cups and plates scattering. Sean Astin tries to blot up spilled beer with a bright napkin whose color runs onto the edge of the rug while Billy picks bits of a cracker from the floor. Sean watches Liv march over, hostess smile planted firmly in place as she assesses the damage.

Viggo is lurking in the background, looking undecided about whether he should get involved in the cleanup operation or drag the two drunk hobbits into the bathroom. He meets Sean's glance and shrugs towards the door in a subtle but obvious indication that maybe they could sneak out of there.

"Well?" Orlando presses. "In this movie, what's your secret?"

"Wouldn't be a secret if I told you." Sean turns his head and grins inscrutably. For an instant he's not himself talking to a boy out of drama school, but a man talking to an elf who's already suspicious of him.

His eyes ache to look back at Viggo, for roles have a way of bleeding over into life and he can feel the pull of Boromir's frustration. But he forces himself to play his own part, waiting for Orlando's laugh. When it comes, he glances over to see Viggo helping Billy clean the floor, his face polite with disinterest.

So passes the evening.


	3. Me Gotta Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louie Louie, oh...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the contrelamontre soundtrack challenge, but also because I owe numerous people happy!fic. This may very well be the silliest thing I have ever written. Want to know more about "Louie Louie"? Check out [this web site](http://www.xs4all.nl/~tdg/louie1.html)!

_It won't be long me see me love_  
_Me take you in my arms and then_  
_I tell you I never leave again_  
_Louie Louie, oh...me gotta go_

Sean always arrived late to cast parties to give the hobbits time to get drunk. If he got there too early, they'd try to rope him into their games of Twister or whatever nonsense Dominic was making up on the spot. Then they'd dare him to go skydiving or bungee-jumping with them, and eventually they'd start taking the piss out of him over his fear of flying. If he waited long enough, though, Sean Astin would go home and Elijah would collapse, leaving Billy and Dom to sit up half the night discussing which obscure Antarctic explorer would make a better subject for a movie and which of them should play the lead.

That night at Liv's, with the music blaring and half the crew singing along at the top of their lungs, Sean walked onto the porch for a quiet cigarette and ended up stepping into a heated argument. Even before he could figure out the topic of the quarrel, Sean could tell that Elijah was losing it. "You are such a fucking cunt!" he was shouting to be heard over the music from inside. "You don't know. Nobody knows."

"Nobody knows what?" Sean called as he approached, raising his voice to be heard over the _WHOOOOAAAAH_ s within. Elijah was standing with his back to the balcony, glaring at Viggo, who sat comfortably against the bottom step with a placid smile on his face. Elijah gave Sean an enthusiastic greeting, but Viggo barely moved, inclining his head slightly as his only acknowledgment of Sean's arrival.

"Nobody knows the real words to 'Louie Louie'," Elijah declared, gesticulating at Viggo. " _He_ claims he knows them. Human scum!" It was a running joke between Viggo and Orlando, but Elijah was clearly annoyed, shooting a frown at the man resting easily on the wooden floorboards. "Even people who've recorded that song don't know all the words. I don't care how many singers you know -- you do not know the words to 'Louie Louie'."

"It's a love song," said Viggo calmly.

Sean shrugged. "Well, I certainly don't know." Nodding in Viggo's direction for Elijah's benefit, he observed, "He's American. And older than us." That made Viggo smile, since he was only a few months older than Sean, whereas they were both easily old enough to be Elijah's father. "And he's a musician."

"Like that means he knows more about 'Louie Louie' than I do?" Elijah scoffed. From inside, Orlando's falsetto singing rang out above the rest of the voices. "I have Richard Berry's and The Kingsmen's versions on four or five different compilations. I have the Beach Boys version. I have the Barry White version. I haven't got them here, but at home I have 'Louie Louie' by Tom Petty, Frank Zappa and Blondie..."

"You like Blondie?" Viggo inquired, earning another blue-eyed glare. "Have you got The Kinks?"

"Yes, but that's more your style. Cunt," added the younger man for good measure. "Iggy Pop sings it about laying some girl in a park. With Jack Ely, the only words you can hear clearly are ale, wine and shit."

"Terrible combination," Sean deadpanned. Viggo flashed him a grin. Inside the singing had reduced itself to wailing and rhythmic stomping as the music began a long fadeout. With a final mystified stare at both men, Elijah shook his head and shrugged, waving as he headed back to the party.

"Three nights and days we sail the sea," Viggo chanted quietly, gesturing Sean over. He sat next to Viggo as the other man wriggled in time with the music, singing lyrics that might have been comprehensible but between the noise of the festivities and Viggo's raspy mumbling, it was impossible to be sure. 

After a moment Viggo turned to look at him. "You believe me, don't you? About the lyrics?"

"Sure, Viggo, I believe you," Sean agreed amiably.

"Then let's dance." Abruptly Viggo, who had been so relaxed a second before, had jumped to his feet and pulled Sean beside him. For a few beats Viggo tried to get a stunned Sean to dance with him, shuffling up against him and moving his arms, before stopping suddenly, breath warm on Sean's skin. "Did you want to go inside? Or do you want to get out of here?"

Sean hesitated, no more certain of what Viggo was really asking than he was of the lyrics to 'Louie Louie'. But Viggo smiled and winked at him, and he decided that he might be willing to find out. Inside the music had changed to something from the late disco era, and some of the partygoers were beginning to spill onto the porch.

"The only line of that song I ever really heard was 'We gotta go'...if that's what the line is," Sean admitted.

A slow smile crept over Viggo's face. "Then let's go."


End file.
